This was supposed to be the first part of a much longer (and more exciting) chapter, but due to certain events I've decided to go ahead and post this section. I think you all will like what happens at the end, and I promise that it'll be explored a bit more in the next chapters!
Carmen yawned, stretching out luxuriously in the silk sheets. Last night was…wait. She sat up with a jolt, her eyebrows pulled close together as she searched her memory. Nothing. After the eating and drinking and talking, nothing; only the blackness of dreamless sleep. He'd let her sleep.
She flopped back down with a frown. What reason did Loki have for letting her rest peacefully through the night? Call her suspicious, but she had trouble trusting in his kindness; it had never brought her anything lasting.
A small mew drew her attention, and her heart melted at what she saw. Perched on the edge of the bed, head tilted curiously to the side, was a tiny black kitten with the greenest eyes. A ribbon of the matching color was tied around his neck, holding a small piece of rolled-up parchment. She stretched her hand out across the sheets and wiggled her fingers, making gentle cooing noises and smiling without meaning to. Kittens had that effect on people. He remained still for a moment, then pounced decisively on her fingers.
Laughing, Carmen scooped the kitten into her palm and brought him close to her face. His response was to bat at her nose and squeak. "Oh, come on little one," she teased, booping his nose with her finger. She pulled the note out, but left the ribbon; it looked so cute and dapper, like a little bowtie round his neck. The handwriting was Loki's, unmistakably. To entertain you.
The implication was clear: she was not to leave this room, and for some reason, for the first time ever, she was given an incentive to do so other than "you'll be punished if you leave." A slight smile touched her lips; it seemed her little window escape had meant something after all. Or he's suddenly turned nice, and cares about you so much. Right. She could almost laugh at that.
The kitten meowed, clearly upset that someone would dare pay attention to anyone other than him. "Okay, baby, I'm sorry." She flipped him on his back and tickled his stomach absently; this kitten needed a name. Black fur, green eyes…. "Harry? How about Harry, hm? Are you a little kitty wizard?"
The kitten was apparently so excited with his new name that he leapt from the tall bed with surprising grace, dashed away to a corner of the room, and began making a most ominous symphony of destructive noises. Carmen groaned, though a smile touched her lips; despite the kitten being Loki's gift in the first place, if anything was wrecked she had no doubt that he would count it as her fault. But still, the spiteful part of her wanted to let little Harry rip the room apart.
After a few moments of waiting, she finally decided to go see what the kitten was up to and, unfortunately, put a stop to it. Of course Harry was rampaging by Loki's wardrobe; the shining silks and glimmering fabrics that hung down were proving irresistible targets for tiny claws. "Oh, honey, get out of there," she half-laughed, half-sighed as she nudged the kitten out and shut the door; Loki cared too much about his clothes ("the king must look the part" ie "the king is a spoiled prat") for her to risk them being destroyed.
Harry was perturbed for a moment, but quickly got over it and scampered….into a wall? No. That made no sense. But he had disappeared — a door! It flashed in front of her for a moment, then was gone. Just a wall….except it couldn't be. She frowned. The door appeared again, stayed for a little longer, then vanished, just like before.
It hit her. An illusion. Could she break through it? She already seemed to be doing so, if only a little. Carmen frowned, focusing. The strangest sensation, almost like electricity, crept across her body: and then it was there, the door, cracked slightly where Harry had slipped through, but now it wasn't flickering out. It was there as truly as she was.
Wisdom made her pause. If Loki had something locked up in a room she had never seen, with a door hidden and protected by illusion, surely he would not take kindly to her entering: but Harry was in there. It would be worse to let him wreck Loki's things, not to mention the kitten could get hurt; he seemed to have a natural propensity for mischief, and, not knowing what was in the room, who knew what could happen to him.
The thought of the little baby in pain was enough to make up her mind. Steeling herself for a room full of dead bodies or torture devices or something as equally gruesome, she entered the room and was confused at what she saw. It looked like a study, or a workroom. A bookcase filled with gilded tomes lined the wall to her left, and on her right were shelves of seemingly-random trinkets and baubles, as well as meticulously organized vials of liquid, bottles of powder, and jars of substances she could not name. The middle wall was home to a low table scattered with parchment set between a tall golden mirror and a stone basin that was sending up occasional curls of smoke. In the middle of it all was a plush chair, obviously well-used, with a book still open on the seat. Harry was playing with a scrap of paper on the floor, looking relatively harmless (and unharmed) enough for her to indulge in her curiosity.
The books gave it away, if all of the magical paraphernalia didn't; they all had titles like Illusion Theory, The Complete Encyclopedia of Curses, and Treatise on Current Battle Magic Techniques, which was to say, they all had something to do with spells and sorcery. This had to be where he practiced his magic, and even worked up potions if the ingredients on the wall were any indication….which was probably why he kept this room hidden. Not that she would attempt anything, though; she knew better than to mess with unknown powders and smoking basins full of who knew what.
Books, as innocuous as they were, were another matter completely. Carmen picked up the one lying open on the chair and almost smiled. It was a beginner's guide to healing. Her mind went back to that night when she had been sick, when she'd yelled at him to heal her or do something to help and he hadn't been able to. He'd been helpless then, and clearly he did not care for that feeling….so he was reading the most rudimentary book of healing to try to change that. A fleeting glimmer of some unnamed emotion flashed through her heart. Not love, no, not even close, but something softer and thinner and less firmly defined. She didn't hate him, though, not in that moment.
The feeling fled quickly, though, much to her delight, and was pushed to the background when Harry began to meow insistently and roll around on his back. She went to the table and crumpled up a blank sheet of paper, which she tossed at the little cat. He was ecstatic about his new toy, so much better than the little scrap he had been playing with, and batted it around on the floor. Satisfied that he was occupied (though completely willing to play with him more if that changed), she continued her exploration of the room.
Carmen gave the basin a cursory glance, considering it, but then decided not to venture too close when she had no idea what was inside. The mirror, though, was a much safer bet, and for some reason seemed equally enticing despite its relatively normal, albeit exceptionally ornate, appearance.
When she approached, she almost wished she hadn't. The reflection that stared back at her was not one she recognized; it was a stranger wearing a cheap facsimile of her body. Most of her body was gaunt and tired, still bearing fading bruises and old wounds, looking more like a war survivor than a once-vibrant young girl. Still-vibrant. My eyes say that, at least. Her dark green eyes still had a worn look to them, but unlike her arms and legs which could have no expressions of their own her eyes were defiant. Her eyes still had a spark of passion and courage, a burning ember of life….but life was found elsewhere, too.
She turned to the side and felt a tumult of clashing emotions. You couldn't mistake her pregnancy for pudge anymore: the rounded bump stretched out in the way that only a baby could. It was so incredibly pointless to let that little life grow on when he would never truly live, but there was still the hope, the distant hope, that something could change. And if it did? If he was born, if he lived? The shadow of his father would hang over him no matter what she did or how hard she tried to protect him. It hurt to even think about.
I need a distraction, I can't do this again; I've got to stop wallowing. A loud thud followed by a clang solved that problem for her, and she whipped around to see Harry tumble down from a shelf with something gold coming after him. She dashed over and let out a sigh of relief when she saw that not only was the kitten unharmed, but that he had avoided making too much of a mess. All that had fallen with him was a gold cuff inlaid with intricate patterns. "Well, sweetie, it could've been worse."
She picked up the cuff to put it back where it belonged when she suddenly found herself in a gray room with a large table, a screen projected in the air — that was all she could take in before she dropped the cuff like white-hot iron and returned to her original location. Holy shit. It was like that single touch had teleported her to some unknown location….which was ridiculous, of course. Or was it? This was a room filled to the brim with magic, and magic was capable of things beyond her understanding. But something this simple she could understand: and she had to try it again. Wherever that grey room was it certainly wasn't Asgard, and she couldn't just pass up a chance like this. It could be her way out.
Exhaling to steady herself, she bent over, then closed her eyes and placed the cuff on her wrist.
She was back in the same room as before when she opened her eyes. Grey and utilitarian, it was dominated by a large table surrounded by chairs, like in the meeting room of an office. Three men stood by the aforementioned screen, frowning and discussing — oh. She knew them. Handsome Tony, blond Thor, and the third had to be Bruce Banner himself….but they were gone. Dead, in hiding, locked away in some desolate prison; no one had truly known. Yet here they were. And now they were looking at her.
"How did you get in here?" Tony asked sharply. "This is the most well-protected compound on the planet and you just popped up out of nowhere."
She couldn't answer; she was too overwhelmed. "I'm on….this is Earth?" Carmen breathed. Of all the things that she had dared to hope, returning home in one piece had been the furthest, least-thought of dream. Her other wishes at least had some semblance of potential possibility; this one could never have happened….yet here she was. Free.
"….yes?" Tony said, raising his eyebrows and looking confused as to where else she could think she was.
"Oh." A laugh bubbled up out of her, and she covered her mouth to hide the smile that was forming before giving up and letting it come freely. She knew she had to look crazy to them, but this was far beyond her wildest dreams and she just had to let her enthusiasm out somehow.
"Fair maiden, are you well?" Thor asked. There was a frown, concern, on his face, that she saw deepen as his eyes flickered down to her battered body.
Suddenly embarrassed — she was wearing what passed for lingerie on Asgard, and while that wasn't a problem there when Loki and the servants were the only people who ever saw her, this wasn't quite the way she wanted to be dressed when meeting the Avengers for the first time — she blushed and rubbed her arms, crossing them in front of her body. "Just a little chilly," she answered with a slight smile that attempted to acknowledge the awkwardness of the situation. "I didn't know top secret compounds would be so cold."
Tony snorted, but her words moved Thor to action. He strode toward her, unclasped his cloak, and swung it over her shoulders in one smooth movement. "Is that better, my lady?" he asked kindly.
Her smile, more bemused now, grew, and she nodded. "Thank you; you're too kind." Truth be told, any kindness seemed too much now. She could hardly believe that this man and her tormenter had been raised brothers; that they had become enemies, well, that had been easier to see. Compassion and cruelty couldn't get along without conflict for long.
Carmen reached up to straighten her hair, but when she raised her wrist, Thor caught it gently in his large hand. "Who gave you this?" He nodded towards the cuff. "It is Asgardian make, as are your garments."
She slipped out of his grasp; his grip wasn't uncomfortable, but she didn't like to be held if she had any choice in the matter. "They are Asgardian. I -" A door slammed shut, and she turned to see a group of people walking in, deep in conversation. Two — Captain America and the Black Widow — she recognized without issue. The bow and quiver of arrows on the second man's back quickly identified him, too, Hawkeye. The fourth member of the party was a mystery; dark clothes, leanly muscled, a jagged bob of chestnut hair, almost familiar but just out of her mind's reach.
The girl had no such qualms. A wide grin split her lips and she screamed, "Carmen!" Leah. She would know that voice and those indigo eyes anywhere, despite how much the rest of her had changed; she didn't have time to do anything but smile before being embraced so tightly she thought her bones might break.
Apologies for the ending, like I said, this wasn't where I meant to cut it off. But she's finally meeting the Avengers! Let me know what you thought :)